


Colours

by Khaelis



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-18 21:31:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7331323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khaelis/pseuds/Khaelis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because every colour has a meaning. Especially when it comes to the Doctor and Rose.</p><p>Standalone stories, each inspired by a colour.<br/>Find out more about the chapters in the notes!</p><p>Chapter 4 : Yellow<br/>Rose is about to die, the Doctor tries everything he can to save her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> I'm back with a few more Ten/Rose stories. Each story is based on a colour.  
> The stories will range from extremely fluffy to extremely angsty.  
> The ratings will range from PG to Explicit.
> 
>  
> 
> I hope you'll like it!  
> Thank you for reading this! :-)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because blue doesn't necessarily mean melancholy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated PG.  
> Unadulterated fluff!
> 
> Thanks for reading! :-)

The Tardis groaned and wheezed as the Doctor manoeuvred the ship to a land with the many levers and rotors on the control panel. Rose watched with a glint of amusement in her eyes the pinstriped-suited alien dance around the console with broad movements she was quite sure weren’t an absolute necessity.

 

“And here we are!” he exclaimed excitedly. “Calliopnupti, 73 centuries into your future!”  
“Are your sure about that?” she grinned while readjusting her long scarf around her neck.  
“When have I ever been mistaken about where I landed my ship?” he asked with falsely outraged huff. “Oh, wait, don’t answer that. Well, only one way we can find out, right?”

 

Rose smiled and twined his wiggling fingers into her own. She just hoped her whole winter attire would be of some use and that they hadn’t landed in a scorching hot desert when they were supposed to visit a planet where flogging squalls of winter ruled throughout the year.

When the door opened on a large meadow of ice and snow, she released a sigh of relief. The Doctor tugged on her hand and led her to the middle of the patch of land. Her boots made the thick snow crack under her feet and she wondered how his feet would survive the cold in his quite-not-suitable thin chucks.

 

“Superior Time Lord biology, and all that,” he winked, and she realized she had once again spoken her mind aloud. “It’s just a few degrees under zero, it’s not _that_ cold.”  
“Speak for yourself,” she chastised with a smirk, a cloud of condensation escaping her lips. “The cold is definitely worth this, though.”

 

She really thought it was. The sky was of a deep cerulean with bright stars sprinkled all over, and a moon shed a dim cyan light on the ground. It looked as if the snow and ice glowed under their footsteps. What amazed her the most were the large chunks of ice that seemed to be floating in the sky, reflecting the moonlight like perfectly cut diamonds.

 

“What are those?” she asked softly, shifting closer to the Doctor in a vain attempt to warm up.  
“If you’re into legends and myths, these are cocoons made of ice,” he answered, obviously thrilled to share his knowledge. “They host spirits of light and the moon is their mother. This part of the planet is only lit by a very distant star, much like your sun, for four minutes every eighteen years. Not enough to create daylight, strictly speaking, but just enough to raise the temperature by a few degrees. When the temperature is high enough, the cocoons melt and the spirits are set free. They say that they are born in their own tears and that they die before they get the chance to wipe them away.”  
“That is so sad,” Rose whispered, transfixed by the lumps of ice hanging in the sky by invisible strings.  
“Just a legend,” the Doctor reminded her with a smile. “No one actually lives here. Too hostile.”

 

The Doctor watched her with a soft smile and realized she would quickly be chilled to the bones if they remained standing there in the chilly gusts of wind. She lowered her bobble hat on her forehead and dove her gloved hands in the deep pockets of her wadded parka. He chuckled at her whole outfit – her size had tripled with all the layers of clothes she had donned and half her face was covered with the mile-long multi-coloured scarf she had rolled around her neck.

 

“Can you survive for ten more minutes?” he teased with a smirk.

 

She bumped his shoulder with a sway of her upper body and if her hands weren’t sitting comfortably at the bottom of her pockets she would have smacked him on the head.

 

“May I remind you I have survived much worse than this?” she glared at him, although her eyes were brightly lit by a spark of mischief. “And why ten minutes?”  
“Because in five minutes the sun rises. Come on, Rose Tyler! You don’t want to miss that one, trust me.”

 

He locked his arm with hers and dragged her across the meadow until they reached its edge. Rose gasped when they stopped at the border of a tiny cliff and took in the magnificent sight that greeted her. The Doctor smiled broadly when her eyes went from the landscape stretching before her to his face, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. What seemed to be a beach of blue snow blended seamlessly into what she believed to be a sea of some sort, vapours of white steam clouding its surface. It reflected the pale blue light of the moon and thousands of cocoons were floating above it.

 

“Nitrogen ocean,” the Doctor enlightened her, his voice barely above a murmur.  
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered softly.

 

He nodded lightly and despite her obvious marvel at the almost magical scenery, he noticed she had a hard time controlling the shivers shaking her fragile frame. He slipped behind her and wrapped his arm around her waist, leaning his chin on her shoulder. She seemed to freeze in his unexpected embrace and he wondered if he had gone a tiny step too far. It wasn’t rare for them to be physically close, but perhaps the mood of the moment made the gesture somewhat uncomfortable for her. He moved with a slight pang in both his hearts when she yanked her hands out of her pockets and he knew he had made a mistake.

He was about to blurt out an apology – it wasn’t like apologizing was something new to him – but his eyebrows rose when she quickly clasped her hands around his and leaned her back against his chest.

 

“Where is Earth?” she breathed out, rubbing her thumbs on the back of the hands that had clasped around her midsection.

 

The Doctor gently freed one of his hands from her hold and pointed a finger at a star that shone more brightly than the others.

 

“Over there, give or take few light years,” he said gently. “From here, it must be the size of a proton.”

 

Rose drew a shaky breath in and her fingers clasped his more firmly.

 

“It’s in moments like this that I realize how lucky I am,” she acknowledged. “Hundreds of galaxies away from home, thousands of years into the future. I never thanked you properly for this.”

 

The Doctor shuffled on his feet in a gutsy attempt to get closer to her body and nestled his chin deeper into the wool of the scarf falling limply over her shoulder.

 

“I should be the one thanking you,” he shrugged nonchalantly, although her confession warmed his hearts more than he dared to admit .  
“Then this must be one of the best _thank you_ someone has ever offered.”

 

She lifted her chin to the sky when it started to brighten from a deep dark blue to an infinitesimally lighter shade. In a matter of seconds, droplets of water started to roll down the side of the chunks of ice. And she understood why the spirits of light were born in their tears. The tiny beads of water were shining like glittering stars despite the lack of direct sunlight and as soon as they reached the edge of the ice, they fell down and disappeared into the steamy vapours of the sea. Some of them found enough strength to dance in the sky for a few blessed moments, carried by the wind, until their weight became too much to bear.

The Doctor had never seen anything like it before. The utter delight Rose felt as she watched the scene unfold before her eyes. The way her arm subtly tensed as if she wanted to reach for the falling droplets, then realized they were too far away. How she leaned against him as if she trusted him implicitly. It fascinated him to observe that woman drinking in the almost surrealism of the landscape. It always amazed him to see how much attention she paid to everything, how much she always was willing to learn from each and every world. It all made her who she was. The pink and yellow human he had grown so fond of. Maybe too much. Way too much.

Rose had never seen anything like it before. So beautiful, so breath-taking. Thousands of golden raindrops illuminating the landscape like tiny bulbs of light, whirling through the wind until gravity took its toll on them and they vanished in the ocean of azure fog. She barely felt the tears sliding down her cheeks and barely noticed that the Doctor had started rocking her ever so slightly in his arms.

 

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, his thumbs rubbing her forearms.

 

His voice brought her back to the solid earth beneath her feet and she realized that it was over, and probably had been for a few minutes. The sight was still firmly etched behind her eyes and she kept seeing the ghosts of all those little lights floating in the sky. She turned in his arms and he frowned in worry when he caught glimpse of the tears glistening on her rosy cheeks before she could wipe them away with the back of her hand.

 

“Of course,” she reassured him with a broad smile. “It was beautiful. Kept my eyes open too long is all.”  
“I was hoping you’d like it,” he said with a glimmer in his eyes. “Although this is not the most beautiful thing here tonight.”  
“I had no idea you could be so romantic,” she taunted him playfully.

 

She expected him to deny the romanticism of the situation with his usual rambling and vehemence, but she was surprised to see him blanch almost imperceptibly. He opened his mouth as if to say something, closed it when no words came, then opened it again as if he had turned into a fish hopelessly trying to breathe out of water.

 

“You _did_ want this to be romantic,” she said in a gentle voice, her hand coming to rest on his cheek. “Didn’t you, Doctor?”

 

He seemed to be lost for words, his eyes falling down to stare at the tip of his chucks. She felt his jaw tighten even under her gloved fingers and she searched for his eyes expectantly.

 

“Maybe,” he mumbled as he prodded his foot repeatedly in the snow. “Romantic by Earth’s standards at least, I suppose. I just wanted you to know that I care about you.”

 

An anxious sigh escaped his lips and tugged at his ear, a habit which would have made Rose laugh in any other circumstance. The effort he put into not looking at her and the way his whole body struggled not to shy away were disconcerting.

 

“I care about you too, you know,” she smiled kindly.

 

He shook his head and his hands ruffled his hair nervously as his eyes shot up to the sky.

 

“You don’t get it,” he almost reproached. “I _care_ about you.”  
“And I _care_ about you too,” she repeated a bit more firmly.

 

She placed her other hand on his other cheek and when he picked up the emphasis she had put on the word he felt compelled to look at her. His hearts sank in his chest and he sucked a ragged breath in. Her face had never looked prettier than at that precise moment. The smile that stretched her full lips and the typical way her teeth bit the tip of her tongue, the cheeks reddened by the cold, the lonely teardrops that still hang to her eyelashes. And those eyes. Those beautiful honey eyes that pierced through him as though there was nothing he could ever hide from her.

Of course she would have understood what he meant and spare him the terrible worry he felt at the simple thought of saying the words.

 

“You do?” he asked sheepishly, shoulders slumped.

 

She never answered. Did she even have to for him to understand?

Rose brushed her thumbs under his eyes and stretched on the tips of her toes. Actions always spoke louder than words, especially when it came to the Doctor and his constant need for reassurance. Her smile would have broadened at the way he bent willingly towards her, his hands fumbling with her parka to find some purchase on her hips. But it instead vanished when their mouths met in a chaste kiss, so light she was almost unable to feel it with her cold lips. The Doctor was too overwhelmed by the storm of feelings growling in his chest to make sense of any of it. He had wished for so long for this to happen. Every feeling he had had trouble to keep at bay, every hope that had made his guts twist and knot, every dream that had made his head buzz with excitement… They all melted into a single unfurling wave of emotion crashing inside him and washing away all the doubts he had always felt.

The kiss broke but they remained so close that the condensed air she exhaled with each breath mingled with the contrasting heat of his own. Forehead against forehead, he was almost tempted to join his mind with hers to share everything single thing he didn’t dare say aloud. He realized it would be futile when she nodded her understanding at all the things he wanted her to read in his eyes. He still couldn’t quite believe he could see the same in hers. The sparkle of hope and the glimmer of love, along with the gleam of trust. It would take time to put what they really felt for each other into words but for now it was enough of an acknowledgment.

 

“What’s that for?” Rose asked when the Doctor’s body shook under the most genuine laugh she had ever heard from him.  
“The things you do to me, Rose Tyler!” he grinned widely. “Flabbergasted. Flabbergasted and deliriously ecstatic, that I am, bad combination for my poor brain. Never happened before, never will again. Can’t I enjoy it for a moment?”  
“Please do,” she answered with a matching grin, running her fingers on his sideburns.

 

She squealed in delight when he lifted her in the air by her hips and swirled on his feet for a moment until he felt too dizzy to keep it up any longer. Rose slapped him gently on the top of his head when she felt the ground under her feet again and adjusted her hat that had gone askew on her forehead.

 

“Cheesy,” she noted with a smirk.  
“Romantic, though.”  
“Still cheesy. You’ve watched way too much romantic comedies, Doctor.”  
“Oi, don’t pretend you didn’t like it!”

 

She shook her head with a foolish smile spread over her face. He stared at her with a coy look and she stared back. It lasted a full minute – and six seconds, the Doctor noted. A full minute during which they jousted playfully, none of them wanting to lower their eyes or make a move.  Until the mood shifted quickly as what was really happening dawned on them. With a surge of pride to be able to do so, the Doctor embraced Rose in a tight hug and she buried her face into the soft material of his coat.

 

“Thanks for showing me this,” she whispered softly against his chest, the words carrying a whole new meaning. “We should do it more often, yeah?”  
“Quite right too,” he smiled as he felt a subtle sting in his eyes.

 

_How things could change, out of the blue…_


	2. White

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because no planet is safe enough. And the Doctor should know that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated Teen.
> 
> You may want to know, this one is rather angsty. It could also be tagged hurt/comfort.
> 
> I hope you'll like it!  
> Please let me know what you think!
> 
> Thanks for reading! :-)

The Doctor stumbled into the room when they pushed him harshly in the small of his back. The door was slammed shut behind him and he swiped his eyes across the empty space. Nothing but white. White walls, white floor, white lighting. He checked his clothes. White. The only colours he could see were the shades of pink of his palms and the light greenish blue of his veins on the back of his hands.

He couldn’t believe he had let himself be captured so easily. His fingers probed the side of his neck and he felt a soft patch of gauze covering the wound. He should have been more careful.

It had been such a perfect day. He had brought Rose to a planet called Timaru. A peaceful planet inhabited by a race that looked much like humans, apart from their extreme pallor and icy blue eyes. It was supposed to be a nice break from all their life-threatening adventures. He knew how much she loved collecting trinkets and alien-looking items – that she always ended up stuffing in box she only ever opened to throw more of them inside. The marketplace he had taken her to was the best place he had been able to think of when he had decided to organize that impromptu journey.

He now regretted his unfortunate choice.

Of course he couldn’t have predicted any of this. Rose always told him he attracted danger like a magnet and that he should stop being so reckless, and she wasn’t particularly wrong about that. But as he had propped himself on the corner of the shop, watching his beautiful human pick up chintzy jewellery with a fond smile stretching his features, being prudent had been the least of his concerns. Until he had felt two pairs of strong arms tightening around him and a needle pricking the soft skin of his neck. Until it was too late.

He trailed his fingers against the wall where the door was to try and find some kind of way to open it from the inside, but to no avail. The door blended perfectly into the wall and without the help of his screwdriver there would be no way to force it open. He paced around for some time, his eyes roaming around to find a weak spot, but he soon realized he was locked up for good. With an unrestrained sigh, he sat in a corner of the room and crossed his hands over his knees.

His sense of time told him it had been half a day since he’d been captured. He wondered why he even had been in the first place. The people from this planet were not used to seeing other species, but surely he wasn’t different enough to draw that much attention. Or was he? Then it was probable Rose had been taken too.

 

“Gods, Rose,” he suddenly breathed out, his eyes widening.

 

Worry gnawed at his insides as he thought about what could have happened to her. None of the situations he imagined bode well. She could be in the same situation as he found himself in, just as she could be lost on this godforsaken planet she knew nothing about. His poor Rose…

He jumped when what looked like a small food hatch opened on the wall he faced. A white-gloved hand pushed a plate inside and disappeared as quickly as it came. He huffed when he examined the food. Something like overcooked rice had been splattered on the plate carelessly. Also white.

 

“Care to add some milk to that?” he muttered.

 

He knew this colour had a purpose. He remembered something about a certain torture technique that was used on different planets, especially those inhabited by species fitted with less developed brains. Put a man inside a white room for a few days and he’d lose his mind. He was quite sure this wouldn’t have any effect on his superior Time Lord brain. He would have to try to convince them their enterprise was useless, even if his chances of them releasing him were close to none. He stood to fetch the plate of rice and picked a small portion between his fingers. It was awfully gluey and it smelled really awkward and he decided he’d rather starve than eat this unnameable thing. He put it back down on the floor and leaned against the wall with a sigh. The wait was bound to be interminable.

For hours he paced about the small room, too restless to sleep, too worried to remain seated. He felt like a lion in a cage, counting the long minutes in his head. Six hours and thirty-four minutes. He wished he could shut down his ability to get a sense of time as precise as it was. Every second that ticked away painfully reminded him that Rose could be in danger while he was walking around aimlessly in a prison cell.

He stopped dead in his tracks when the full door opened on two autochthones – much more muscular and taller than the vast majority of their people, he noticed.

 

“Will someone finally explain to me what is going on here?” he asked as he very boldly stepped towards them. “What do you want from me?”

 

They each put a large pale hand on his shoulders and pushed him against the wall to keep him from moving too much.

 

“Oi, would you let me go?” he barked with a growl, trying to get a grip on their wrists. “Where is Rose? What are you doing?”

 

No reaction. Oh well. It wasn’t like he could have expected an answer. One of them clenched his fingers around his thin neck so tight his respiratory bypass kicked in, his lungs contracting tediously in his chest to keep the oxygen flowing in his veins. The other ran a device over his body which he supposed was some kind of scanner. The unknown contraption biped a few times and the alien put it back in his lab coat.

The Doctor watched helplessly as the pale being drew a syringe, filled with what could have very well been glue given its thickness, from his pocket. He tried to fight back and kicked his legs with his bare foot, but he was too weak. Way too weak. He might as well have kicked a rock. Black spots swimming before his eyes, he felt the needle pierce the skin and the burn of the substance spread in his arm.

They finally let him go and he drew a sharp intake of breath in as he fell to his knees. The two pair of shoes disappeared from his field of vision and he heard the door close once again. He massaged his sore arm to soothe the pain away and calmed his breathing back to normal.

 

“Bloody aliens!” he swore loudly, falling back against the wall.

 

He wiped his sweaty brow with the back of his hand and rubbed his tear-coated eyes with the tip of his fingers. His arm fell flabbily on his lap and he realized he couldn’t move it anymore. The numbness soon spread through his limbs and it only took a few minutes before his whole body fell limply on the floor.

The sensation was terrifying. The only movements he was allowed were the slight heaving of his chest and the roaming of his eyes around the room. But what terrified him the most was the dull ache escalating quickly in the back of his head and the jolts of pain pulsing in his brain. The drug seeped into every fibre of his body like a deadly venom. His head that had been bubbling with thoughts now felt empty. The poison blocked every possible way he had to think. And with the last ounce of rationality he could muster, he understood the purpose of the white room.

Unable to make a sound, unable to move, unable to feel, unable to see anything else than white. He could cope with many things and his brilliant mind always came up with a solution to pull him out of the mud. But no matter brilliant his brain could be, it needed external stimuli to work properly. Stimuli that were non-existent in that precise moment. The pain worsened when all the neural pathways strained to make sense of what was happening around him. The neurons fought to link together to work something out but the sparks of the synapses dissolved in his brain tissue, having nowhere to go to.

The Doctor felt his eyes twitch unpleasantly and blur with tears he was unable to shed. He couldn’t remember having ever hurt this much in his many centuries spent running around the universe. He had endured physical injuries, death, even torture, but not as atrocious as that was. Had he been able to use his voice, he probably would have cracked the walls with his screams.

It felt as if his whole brain was on fire, bombs of useless activity exploding against his skull, neurons pulsing wildly in their search of information. A single different colour would have been enough to focus on and appease his blazing organ. Closing his eyes would have been enough to imagine colourful landscapes and people. Imagine Rose. But the only thing he could think about was white. All he could see was white. No way to fight the vicious power of the drug.

It might have lasted a few minutes, a few hours, a few days. Time had become a foreign concept. Thoughts, feelings, hopes. They were all gone for good. Pain was then his only reality.

 

***

“Doctor…”

 

His eyes shot open when the warm air that accompanied the whisper brushed against his ear. He groaned in pain when he stirred his aching body into a sitting position against the wall. The hammers in his head and the harsh lighting reminded him of his current situation and he bit his lower lip in a futile attempt to dull his searing headache. He must have had passed out because he had been unable to bear the pain any longer.

 

“Doctor, are you okay?”

 

He turned his head towards the source of the voice and gasped loudly when he saw her.

 

“Rose,” he breathed as he struggled to get to his feet.

 

There she was, standing in the corner of the room. What a sight for sore eyes. Beautiful, clad in her pale yellow sundress he had always loved. He took a few hesitant steps towards her and his hand reached out to caress her bare arm. He frowned when he realized something was off. What was she doing there? Why the peculiar choice of outfit? Why didn’t she move? Why was her face so void of any emotion?

 

“I’m here for you, Doctor.”

 

Her voice was so warm, so peaceful. So out of sync with her behaviour. Alarms rang loudly in the back of his head but he didn’t pay any attention to them. He couldn’t. He wanted this too much. His fingers hovered over her skin and the lack of heat that usually emanated from it was the only detail he needed to understand that it wasn’t really her. Her image dissolved before his eyes when he tried to catch her wrist.

 

“I’m here to help you.”

 

He turned swiftly on his feet, hearts hammering violently against his chest. Her voice sounded like sweet and reassuring music in his ears, and yet he knew that this was wrong on so many levels. His capacity to analyse what really was happening was shutting down slowly. That was the real purpose of the drug. He was slowly going mad.

She was sitting against the wall where he had been moments before, her sundress having been replaced by one of her fitting tee-shirt and a pair of worn jeans. He remembered the time when she had been in the exact same position, wearing the exact same clothes – weeks ago, they had been eating chips on a bench in London.

 

“You can’t help me,” he murmured. “You’re not real. Just a hallucination.”  
  
“You can see me.”

 

His headache was getting worse by the minute and he pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. He wanted to give in so much. Just look at her and listen to her voice. Forget for one pleasant moment that this wasn’t her but just his mind playing around with his senses. But he couldn’t.

The pain he endured was a constant reminder that Rose – his Rose, the real one – might be worse off than he was. As much as this hallucination could bring him the comfort that would keep him alive, it couldn’t compare with the dread he felt knowing his sweet and beloved human might be in a life-threatening situation. The same dread that kicked him in the guts and fuelled his desire to find a way out of this damned place.

 

“You can hear me, Doctor.”

 

The voice had moved to his left side and it took him all of his will not to look in its direction. He didn’t answer and sat back down against the wall. He wouldn’t give up. A war raged on between his fuzzy mind that wanted to revel in the sound of her voice, bask in the fantasy of having her near him, and the little bit of conscience he had left that ordered him to ignore it.

He kept his eyes closed and clasped his palms over his ears. He felt much saner imagining her beautiful face and her delicious voice of his own volition. It was so much harder than being a mere spectator of his own hallucinations, but so much better than the illusions that were but pale copies of who Rose really was.

 

“I’ll get through this, Rose,” he promised. “I’ll get through this for you.”

 

Thoughts of her crawled their way through the pain and the nasty headache turned into a dull thud.

It was when he started feeling the effects of the drug wearing off that the door opened. It all happened too fast. Another injection, another scan.

A whole new level of pain, paralysed on the floor. Madness creeping in his mind and body. More hallucinations.

And after that, it happened again. Once. Twice. Until it became a lifelong routine. For how long exactly, he didn’t know.

But he never surrendered.

 

“I’ll get through this.”

 

It was the first time in his whole thousand-year life that he felt so scared to break a promise.

 

***

Curled up on the floor, the Doctor almost felt a peace. Broken and hurt, and maybe a little crazy. Still, at peace.

In the haze clouding his mind, he barely noticed the quite sound of the door clicking open. Instinctively, he gathered his knees against his chest and buried his face between his legs. He couldn’t be sure it was another hallucination, but he couldn’t be sure it was really happening either. The boiling headache he suffered grew worse when he tried to prick his ear to pick up a sound, any sound that would convince him someone was really there. Maybe it was another scientist that was coming to inject him with another dose of that drug. Maybe it was another medic that was coming to get another full scan of his body. Maybe it was nothing at all. He was incapable to tell the difference between what was real and what wasn’t anymore. Too physically tired, too mentally exhausted.

 

“Doctor,” a soft, broken voice whispered a few feet away from him.

 

His insides twisted when the voice penetrated his ears and sank in his head to soothe the blood vessels pulsing wildly against his skull. It was a wonder, how this voice had been the only lifeline he could hold on to. Both comforting enough not to give into the madness that was slowly taking possession of his body and mind, and painful enough to remind him he had to survive through this if he ever wanted to hear it for real again.

 

“Doctor, I’m here,” her voice whispered again.

 

His fingers clenched around lose spikes of hair so that he wouldn’t be tempted to reach towards that voice. She couldn’t be here. It was just another vicious trick of his mind. A drug-induced phantasmagoria that would be his undoing and had paradoxically been his only solace.

 

“You’re not,” he breathed. “You can’t be.”  
  
“And yet I am.”

 

Well, technically, this wasn’t wrong. This product of his imagination and subconscious was in the same room as he was. Inside his head, thanks to all the chemicals fizzing in his blood. No matter how real the images and the sounds he experienced felt, they only were illusions. His brain created them and activated all the right neural pathways to forge the right pictures behind his eyes and the right voices in his ears. But in the end, this brain wasn’t much more brilliant than a human’s in such circumstances. It just picked up things he had heard, things he had seen and it made him relive them. A grand deception. As simple as that.

He managed to find enough lucidity to understand all of this. It would be easy to trick the illusion.

 

“Tell me something you’ve never told me before,” he asked in a murmur, not even sure, if it actually _were_ Rose, that she’d be able to hear him.

 

That was it. His brain was clever and full of ingenuity, but it couldn’t make up things from scratch. A hallucination could never make him hear something he had never heard before coming from Rose’s mouth. He could focus really hard to try and make it sound real but it would never be the same as hearing the words roll on her tongue and fill the air like a sweet perfume.

He waited for what seemed to be hours and when nothing came, he felt his lips stir into a sad grin of victory. And his eyes cry in despair. He realized he had been wishing so hard for her to be there by his side. His only hope, his only reason to hold on. But he was all alone. Had always been. Would always be.

He froze when the sound of clothes rustling and felt the tip of warm fingers brush against his forehead.

 

“I hate you so much for not kicking my ass every time I wandered off.”

 

How could such words be turned into the most melodious and comforting sentence he had ever heard? He opened his eyes slowly and the first thing he saw were a pair of old trainers. They looked so physically there, so _real_. The fingers ran through his tousled hair and ran down his sideburn to cup his cheek gently. He shivered deep down to his core as his hearts swelled with hope. This felt so much better than all the hallucinations he had had to ignore. He drew a deep breath in and his olfactory system clicked back into place when her scent filled his nostrils and reminded him of how good she smelled.

He trailed his eyes up and observed the clothes. They were the ones Rose had picked to go to that damned marketplace. A worn pair of jeans with holes on the knees, a denim jacket over a red hoodie. They looked convincing. A bit of dust and dirt here and there, snags on the sleeves, creases everywhere. If this was an illusion, it most certainly didn’t lack any details.

The fingers on his cheek went to caress his jaw and lift his chin up. He was greeted by the most beautiful sight he had ever been granted. He choked on a sob as his hand hovered over the side of her face.

 

“Rose?”

 

His question sounded more like a desperate supplication than anything else. His hesitation and doubts evaporated when she offered a smile and her eyes welled with tears. Rose smiling. That was the only proof he needed.

She slipped an arm under his weak body and helped him sit back against the wall. He saw the extreme fatigue stretching her features, the dark circles under her eyes and the pallor of her skin. He also saw the relief and the love that seemed to ooze from her every pore. She cupped his face gently, as if she was scared she could break him like a porcelain doll. The way she kissed him made his hearts blow in his chest. Every brush of her lips breathed new life into him, every tender nip mended the pieces of his shattered mind back together. She was the only remedy he needed.

 

“I missed you so much,” he whispered when their lips came apart.

 

All air was kicked out from his lungs as she drew him into the most stifling hug he had ever experienced. She pressed her lips against the skin of his neck and her hands clenched on his body like he might disappear should she let him go.

 

“I thought I’d never find you,” she cried against his shoulder. “I’m so sorry for not coming sooner. I’m so sorry, Doctor. I was so worried about you. Took me an eternity to find someone willing to help me get to you.”  
  
“Oh, Rose,” he managed to say despite his constricted throat. “Don’t ever be sorry for that. Please don’t. I would have lost my sanity a long time ago if it weren’t for you. You found me. That’s what matters.”

 

He tangled his fingers in her blond locks while rocking her shaking frame on his lap – as much to comfort her as to comfort himself. The weight of her body against his was so much more reassuring then than it had ever been. All the hallucinations he had been faced with could never compare with the feel of her surrounding him completely, from her touch to her smell, from her voice to her smile.

It would take time to heal completely, but as long as Rose was with him, it would be alright.


	3. Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor is jealous. Rose gets angry. He tries to apologize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated M.
> 
> Jealous Doctor and fluff!
> 
> Contains smut (last part of the chapter, rather soft IMO, but if you don't like it you don't necessarily have to read it to get the point of the story)
> 
> I hope you'll like it, thanks for reading! :-)

Rose was having the time of her life.

The Doctor had taken her to a 19th century ball in Paris to fulfil one of the many wishes she had written down on a piece of paper. The _Bal Mabille_ was one of the fanciest outdoors ball at the time, sumptuous and ostentatiously posh, gathering the richest people of the capital. He didn’t enjoy this kind of event much, especially because of the dancing and the people. They were all too uptight and complacent, it felt like the very concept of fun was out of their reach. But what wouldn’t he do for his Rose…

He sipped on his flute of expensive champagne, cross-legged on an isolated bench to avoid being bothered by young girls looking for a man to spend the night with. It allowed him to watch Rose from a distance and make sure she wouldn’t see him huff grumpily every time she found a new dancing partner. He usually wasn’t one to be jealous, but the way she laughed and happily obliged whenever a man pulled her closer made his insides twist uncomfortably.

The Doctor had to admit, the dress he had picked for her suited her perfectly, and that might have been the very reason why the gentlemen seemed to be particularly interested in getting a dance with her. The deep purple velvet hugged her curves in all the right places and the bun of blonde hair from which a few strands had gotten lose made her all the more attractive than she already was by nature.

She waltzed with grace in the arms of a young man who had his hand a bit too low on her hip to his liking. They danced elegantly among the crowd of other couples to the rhythmic music, careful not to step on feet or skirts dragging on the stage.

The song ended on a high-pitched note from a violin and everyone seemed to stop moving at once, as if frozen in time and space. The Doctor scoffed when the young man bowed forward with reverence and brushed his lips over the back of her hand. A hook tugged at his stomach when he noticed the blush creeping on Rose’s cheeks and how she giggled joyfully.

The flirting may not have been as straightforward as it would be in later centuries but he knew Rose loved this kind of attention. Not that she was fond of posh manners and traditions, she simply fancied the idea of being treated like a princess.

That man must have been a dream come true, the Doctor thought bitterly.

It should have been fine. He should have been glad she was enjoying herself as much as she was. After all, he was the one to have planned it all. He had bought her a beautiful dress, which revealed the smooth line of her neck and bared her shoulder, much to the pleasure of his eyes. She looked absolutely stunning, especially with the silver pendant that rested tantalizingly close to her cleavage, not leaving much to his rampant imagination. The pale pink ribbon tied around her slender waist begged to be let lose, and, oh, how he wished he could be the one to untie it, like the most precious present in the universe.

Every single time he thought about her and what could be, he felt like he was weaving a magnificent patchwork of golden deceptions. Each lie and secret kept adding up and built prison walls around his feelings.

Always fantasizing about telling her how he really felt only to end up hugging her awkwardly whenever he had the chance, just to feel her against his body. Always dreaming about kissing her like the mad man he was only to end up pecking her softly on the cheek, just to feel the touch of her skin under his lips. He felt like a downright fraud. Rose wanted a man she could trust, not a man that was too chicken to tell the truth.

When it came to their feelings for each other, he knew they had both been tiptoeing on a tightrope for a long time. Hearts going up throats when they were closer than friends ought to be. Stomachs playing jumping jacks when they, _he_ , almost let it all out. The desire to throw all the cards on the table carved on the muscles of his hearts. Until he had felt that Rose had given up all hope for something more than friendship and had turned the page for good, when he hadn’t even read the first line yet. And even though the first word of their story had been enough to crack his armour, it had taken longer for his shell to finally break and realize he was still capable of truly loving someone. Too long.

The knowledge that he still had centuries to live when she only had decades left had somewhat been lost in the mist fogging his perspectives. He had been too slow. Too thick and too slow.

So, if she could find a good bloke out here to spend the night with, someone that would be true to her, even just for a few hours, it should be fine.

Except it wasn’t fine. Especially as the young man wrapped his arms around her waist and she leaned closer to him to move lazily to a music that had turned more melancholic, albeit close to be a little too romantic. It wasn’t fine. _She should be his_.

A strike of possessiveness hit him hard in the chest and his breath got caught in his throat. Rose had nestled her head in the crook that man’s neck and was clinging to the sleeves of his tux as if it was the natural thing to do. Nothing about this felt natural to the Doctor. _She should be clinging to him_.

The Doctor rose from his bench after gulping down what was left of his glass of champagne. He made his way through the dancing couples with difficulty, having to dodge men and women whirling around to the sound of the cellos and the piano. The relentless flow of people, the vast majority of which were lovingly cuddled into each other’s arms, kept bumping into him despite his best efforts to remain out of harm’s way. The music was too loud in his ears, shrilling, making his teeth grind. The lights, the noise, the bustle… And the sight of Rose melting into that idiot’s arms. It all made him dizzy.

That may have been the reason why he grasped Rose’s wrist too tightly.

 

“Time to go,” the Doctor said briskly, trying to pull her away with him.  
“Why, what is happening?” Rose asked, completely bewildered.  
“We’re leaving.”

 

The young man, as uneasy to have to challenge the Doctor as he looked to be, stepped in between him and Rose.

 

“And who are you, Sir?” he demanded, though his voice sounded much less than assured.  
“Someone you really don’t want to pester,” the Doctor glared at him. “Come on, Rose.”

 

Rose had barely enough time to understand what was happening before the Doctor dragged her behind him through the dancing crowd. His fingers never left her forearm and tugged with insistence whenever she was too slow or apologized to the people they bounced against. She had trouble keeping up with his pace and she certainly now deemed her choice of shoes unfortunate. Trotting on high heels in the humid grass behind a man who appeared to have stilts instead of legs was worse than running for her life when chased by blood-thirsty aliens.

They only stopped when they reached the Tardis and the Doctor finally let go of her arm. Rose toed off her uncomfortable heels and propped herself against the ship’s door. The Doctor knew from the way she crossed her arms across her chest and the storm raging in her darkened irises that she wasn’t pleased with his behaviour.

 

“What exactly was that about?” she scowled at him.  
“It’s getting late,’ he shrugged as he ran his fingers in his crown of tousled hair.

 

Rose let a bitter laugh flow past her lips and the Doctor noticed the column of her throat bob. Like it usually did when she was about to cry. He hated himself so much for disappointing her. Once again.

 

“So, that’s your excuse?” she smiled with rancour. “It’s just… Late? I’m having a great time with a nice bloke and you just snatch me away ‘cause it’s late?”  
“And I was bored out of my mind,” he lied through clenched teeth, afraid to look at her. “I don’t like these people, I don’t like dancing.”  
“Well you could have spent more time with me for starters. You know, not to get bored. You could have… Oh, you know what? Never mind. I don’t get you sometimes.”

 

She shook her head, dejected, and disappeared into the ship to flee to her room.

The Doctor gave the back of his head a whack and bit his lower lip to contain the stream of profanities that was about to fall from his mouth.

 

“Well done, Sir,” he muttered under his breath. “Very well done.”

 

It was just one more of the many occasions he felt angry at himself. He wanted to spoil her, his sweet, lovely Rose, so much. Always planned everything ahead carefully, made sure that every little detail would be perfect, checked twice when and where the Tardis landed. So how come he always ended up mucking _everything_ up?

Well, this time was easy to figure out. It didn’t take a superior Time Lord brain to tell his outright jealousy was the culprit.

He picked up the shoes she had left behind with a sigh and followed her footsteps inside the ship. He had no idea what he would have to do to make things right again, but it would take much more than simple words. It would take honesty.

 

******

 

Rose stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a thick, comfy towel. Not that she really needed a shower, given that she had barely set foot outside her room from what must have been two days. The morning following the disastrous ending of the party, she had tried to talk to the Doctor, pretend that it had never happened and that all they had left to do was to pick up their daily adventures where they had left off. Except that the said-Doctor had been more than distant and seemed to have closed himself off to the rest of the world.

Rose had not insisted much – after all, she was the one supposed to be angry with him, not the other way around. She had scratched the surface with the greetings they usually exchanged in the mornings, but the lack of reaction and the twitch at the corner of his lips suggested she wouldn’t be able to go much deeper. She had shrugged it off and went back to her room with her cup of tea.

Two days later, minutes seemed to stretch to hours, and she really was starting to ponder whether she needed to look for the Doctor and settle things down once and for all or not. He obviously had no intention to drop her off at her mum’s, or she would already be back at the Powell Estate eating chips on her couch. Maybe he just needed time. Rather ironic for a Time Lord.

During those two days, Rose had still found something out: she simply couldn’t be cross with the Doctor for longer than a few hours. No matter how hard she tried, that was a fact. No one was ever safe from making a mistake once in a while, and with everything he had brought to her – joy, adventure, friendship and many things in between – she couldn’t hold it against him. It was about time he realized that, though.

He could be so thick sometimes, she thought. Well, she was quite certain she could be too. It had taken months trying to make him understand how much she loved him until she had eventually realized nothing would ever happen. On the thickness scale, she probably neared the top.

It wasn’t surprising, truth be told. He was a 900 year-old alien travelling through time and space, she was a 20 year-old human. _Point made_. She was disappointed but not despondent. It felt a bit like the prince charming on his white horse from her childhood had turned out to be a spaceman best friend in a time machine. She couldn’t exactly complain.

It had hurt at first, of course, but she had grown accustomed to the feeling. Having him invade her personal space half a dozen times a day had been incredibly difficult to bear and had required constant alertness not to betray herself. She could deal with holding hands and bumping shoulders when they were having a laugh.

Dealing with the hugs and the pecks on the cheek was a much more complicated task. Her body always longed to lean into his, melt into his, like two polarities attracted to each other. It now took a great amount of control not to burst into flames at each contact of their skin, but she managed to keep her emotions at bay. Not like she had much choice anyway.

Rose stepped out of the bathroom and spotted the dress she would have rather never seen again neatly splayed on her bed. It had been dry-cleaned and ironed and it looked as good as new. A note was pinned to the collar and it read in deep blue ink:

_It would be my pleasure if you could wear this dress tonight and join me outside the Tardis in 30 minutes. Consider this as an invitation to my apology speech. Love, your Doctor._

Rose stared in disbelief at the small piece of paper for a few minutes. She was both relieved that the Doctor had finally sent a sign that he was still opened for dialogue and sceptical about the possible meaning of _apology speech_. That man was so unpredictable, she could expect anything coming from him. It wouldn’t be very subtle to send her back to the same party they had been two days early, but subtleness was not one of his favourite words – if it ever had pertained to his vocabulary.

 

“Oh, whatever,” she shrugged as she picked up the dress.

 

She had been waiting two full days to talk to him and he was offering an occasion to do so on a silver plate. He would say he was sorry, she would forgive him and everything would be back to normal.

She dried her hair and gathered them into a lose bun on the back of her head, put some make-up on, donned her dress and clasped her pendant around her neck. Wearing the same dress felt rather odd, even though she thought it truly was beautiful. The Doctor had told her it was a dress he had found on 19th century Earth, but that he had silver thread motifs sewn into the short sleeves and the hem especially for her. The Gallifreyan symbols and words on the garment reflected the moonlight thanks to a silver that originated from a distant planet, galaxies away. It made it unique in many ways and she deeply regretted to have to reminisce the bad memories attached to it.

Once she deemed herself ready and presentable, she slipped out of her room and made her way to the main door of the Tardis. The ship was unusually quiet except for the muffled hum of the engines keeping the basic functions alive and the lights on the console were all out. She reached the door that was already slightly ajar and let a yellow subdued light filter. She hesitated for a few seconds until she heard the Doctor’s footsteps and the words he muttered lowly under his breath as if he was still practicing his speech.

She ended the torment he seemed to be enduring and pushed the door. He stopped dead in his tracks in front of her, almost bumping into her in his momentum, a relieved sigh escaping his lips.

 

“Rose,” he said as his hand went to his already well-tousled hair to ruffle them some more. “You came.”  
“Of course,” she replied in a breath, dazed by the scenery unfolding before her eyes.

 

A few pear-shaped trees were scattered over the corner of a meadow. The sun had already set and the only light came from garlands adorned with yellow lanterns hanging between the red leaves. The place was deserted, except for little animals she heard scurrying in the deep blue grass, the birds still chirping merrily in the higher branches of the trees and the fireflies flying lazily in the golden streams painted by the soft glow of the lanterns.

The landscape was not much different from what could be seen on Earth and Rose might have thought they were back in France if she hadn’t noticed the three moons floating in the sky. In all its simplicity, it was beautiful.

 

“So, hum,” the Doctor began, uneasily shifting from one foot to the other. “I know this isn’t 19th century France, but… Do you like it?”  
“I do,” she beamed brightly. “It’s lovely.”

 

Rose finally spotted what looked like a foot-tall stage that was fairly large and her eyes widened.

 

“Wait… You’re not actually planning on giving me an apology speech, are you?” she asked, clearly mortified by the idea.  
“Not exactly,” he answered with a sheepish smile. “I just wanted… Would you dance with me?”

 

She giggled under the wave of relief that washed over her and gratefully accepted the hand he offered.

 

“I’d love to,” she reassured him with a smile.

 

The Doctor helped her hop onto the stage and he searched inside his pocket with trembling fingers. He took out his sonic screwdriver and it buzzed with a light blue glow until a soft music could be heard. He put it back inside and found out he was petrified, unable to decide what to do. Rose looked so beautiful, the pale moonlight reflecting on the silver threads of her dress and her golden hair shining brightly with the amber glow of the lanterns. The last thing he wanted was to make a fool of himself and he bit his tongue with the incongruous hope that his body would finally do something instead of standing there like an idiot.

Rose, in all her glorious mercifulness, took pity on him. She gently caught his wrist and splayed his hand over her hip, entwined his other fingers between hers and put her free hand on his shoulder.

 

“Relax,” she said warmly when she realized that a stick of wood might have been more flexible. “It’s just a waltz. And it’s me. Just me.”  
“I’ve been practicing,” he confessed as he took a step backwards when she urged him to move. “Read about it in dozens of books. Tried dancing on my own.”  
“It takes two to waltz, right? And that’s not something you learn in books, Doctor.”  
“Hence the miserable coordination of my feet,” he grumbled, successfully managing not to step on her foot by a few inches. “I’m sorry, I thought it’d be easier.”  
“It’s alright, just take it slow,” she smiled with a gentle squeeze on his shoulder. “Don’t focus too much on your steps, just follow my lead.”

 

He simply nodded and his fingers clenched a bit tighter on her hip when she inched closer to him. He tried to pay attention to her own moves and counted the steps in his head. He knew this was supposed to be easy, but somehow her proximity and the sweet perfume emanating from her made it all so complicated. Thankfully, the way she pressed her hand into his shoulder and nudged her knee against his leg were enough to understand when to step on the side, or take a step back, or a step forward. She guided him with her eyes and greeted him with a smile each time he managed to go wherever she needed him to go.

After a few minutes and half-way through the second song, they fell into a comfortable rhythm. The Doctor let his tensed muscles relax, and though he knew it was far from perfect, he finally began to enjoy it. His feet now moved on their own, which allowed him to focus on much more interesting things. How her eyes shone with the moonlight and sparkled with delight. How her body pressed into his and her heat enveloped him like the softest of silks. How her hand kept creeping closer to the junction of his neck and her thumb brushed against a sensitive patch of skin.

This was a dangerous path he was treading. He needed to think of something else or he was sure he’d let his feelings go rampant. Pouring it all out would be easy, but that left him no way out. He could lay his hearts out in the open, but what if Rose didn’t want this? Didn’t want him? It would kill him. He needed to take it slow. Play all the cards in his hand one by one, either until it became certain that he’d lost or until his only card left was the most valuable. The ace of hearts.

 

“This planet is called Gilluspo,” he explained to keep his mind busy with anything else but the turmoil of feeling bubbling expectantly in his stomach. “Keeping secrets here is considered as an offense to their Gods. They believe lies corrupt their souls. Only truth prevails.”

 

The first card had been laid on the table.

He bit his lower lip when a step was missed and their rhythm faltered. Of course, he had not chosen this particular planet by accident. He believed it was the only place where he would have enough courage to be honest with her. If he were to tell her how he really felt, might as well do it on a planet that would carry some kind of meaning.

The Doctor stared at her, confidence flaring up when he noticed the light blush spreading on her cheeks.

Of course, Rose had immediately caught on the innuendo and her heart fluttered. The spark of hope that had been extinct for quite a long time blazed to life in her chest. The intensity of his eyes boring into hers was mesmerizing. For the first time in months, she allowed herself to marvel at the beauty of his face and remember all the small details that made him the most gorgeous man she had had the chance to lay eyes upon. Everything about him was so perfect…

 

“I… I wanted to apologize,” the Doctor admitted softly as he made her swirl around elegantly. “For, you know, last time.”  
“It’s alright,” she smiled. “I understand, you don’t like dancing. Even if you obviously can, Mr Waltz.”  
“It’s wasn’t the dancing,” he said, shaking his head lightly.

 

Rose stopped moving and he shivered when she brought her hand to the side of his face. He felt naked under her eyes and he knew he would never be able to hide anything from her when she looked at him that way. That left him no choice. He needed to be honest.

 

“Then why did you want to leave so badly?” Rose asked softly, although she had a feeling she might already know the answer.  
“I just… Five more minutes and I would have snapped that idiot’s neck,” he blurted out to get it over with. “All that tooth-rotting flirting… It drove me mad.”  
“Jealous much?”

 

She said it with a smile but he couldn’t find it in him to smile back. This was too important.

 

“As jealous as can be when it comes to you,” he answered with all the honesty he could muster. “Rose, I’m so sorry. This is selfish, and so unfair to you. But I’m afraid… I’m afraid I want you all to myself.”

 

Rose’s breath got stuck in her throat when he blinked tears away. His shoulders seemed to sag under the weight of his revelation and he looked as if he already regretted his choice to tell her the truth. There was so much she wanted to say and so much more she wanted to do, but her body was unable to move. She had been dreaming for the day the Doctor would finally tell her how he felt about her – if he ever felt anything at all – and now that she was there, faced with it in all its glory, her brain had turned to mush.

The Doctor couldn’t stand her silence and he wished he could teleport to another dimension to be spared the increasingly unbearable uneasiness he felt. He really thought that whatever might have happened between the two of them was long gone. No matter how sincere he had been, it was too late.

 

“Ouch!” he cried out with a wince when she smacked the top of his head. “What…”  
“What the hell took you so long, you stupid, thick, brainless alien?” she snarled at him.  
“Rose, I…”

 

His eyes widened as a hot mouth crushed against his and slender fingers clutched his tousled hair. His surprise soon melted into pleasure and he lost himself in the feeling of her body pressing into his. His arms encircled her waist to try and keep some balance while she gripped his spiky mane. His hearts burst, lips and tongues battling furiously to gain the upper hand. A moan rose in the back of his throat when she massaged his scalp all while biting on his lower lip and quickly running her tongue over it to soothe the pleasant sting away.

Going from awkward pecks on the cheek to brilliant snogging was having an unexpected effect on his body and he felt the first flickers of desire stir in his nether regions. He leant into her softness and made it even harder to tame his greedy need to claim her as his. Her kisses and nips weren’t of any help either, but somehow he didn’t mind. He wanted even more.

 

“That alright?” she asked breathily, offering him a moment of respite.  
“More than,” he groaned, seemingly frustrated to have to abandon the touch of her lips for more than a second.

 

He had been wishing so hard for this to happen, and now that it was happening, he realized even his wildest fantasies didn’t even come close to how it really felt. He bent forward to kiss her again, his fingers mapping the bare skin of her back. It amazed him how much passion radiated from her, from the touch of her hands to the warm lips that moved sensually against his. The heat of the moment was maddening and what little was left of control snapped inside him. His hands roamed feverishly over her body, fingertips pressing into every curve and knuckles brushing against every soft spot. Rose’s lip popped out of his mouth when he went to nip at her jaw and trail a series of kisses up to her ear.

 

“I love you,” he whispered softly, as if he was relieved to finally be able to tell his most precious secret.

 

Rose shivered under his fingers and sighed in contentment when his hot breath brushed against the shell of her ear. She placed her hands over his chest and felt his double heartbeat under her palms.

 

“They beat for you,” he breathed against the skin of her neck. “Only for you.”  
“Why have you waited so long to tell me this?” she asked, gently cupping his face.  
“I… I was scared you didn’t want me anymore. Scared you’d abandon me. It just became too heavy a burden to keep it to myself. Seeing you with that bloke, it was… It made me realize I can’t stand being without you anymore.”  
“You know I’d never abandon you, Doctor,” she reassured him with a smile. “I love you way too much to even consider it.”  
“Oh, Rose,” he whispered, tucking a strand of blond hair behind her ear. “My beautiful Rose…”

 

The Doctor couldn’t believe his luck. His brilliant, clever, stunning human really wanted him. And he wanted her. Oh, he wanted her so much...

Rose gasped when he lifted her up in his arms and she had to wrap her legs around his slim waist as he strode toward the Tardis. The giggles she felt coming died in her throat when her back met the wooden panel of the ship. Her moan was muted when his tongue found hers with an unexpected urgency and ferocity.

 

“Say you’re mine,” he grunted between kisses, propping her up against the door for better leverage.  
“I’m yours,” she panted, her breath coming out in short puffs. “Always have been.”

 

His possessiveness was startling, to say the least, but it was soon forgotten when his teeth found the tender skin of the crook of her neck and his hand tightened its hold on her thigh. She didn’t mind. She was willing to give him anything he wanted. He needed the reassurance that she was there for him.

 

“I want you.”

 

Rose felt a wave of arousal ignite and coil deep inside, his deep voice stroking all the right chords.

 

“I want you, too,” came her answer, his darkened eyes boring hungrily through hers.

 

The Doctor felt almost ashamed to sound so needy and inhabited by his lust but he couldn’t control the effect Rose was having on him. She looked flustered, lips red and swollen, strands of hair falling freely around her face, fingers struggling to remove his bowtie. She was too beautiful for her own good.

 

“Have me, then,” she teased with a grin, daring.

 

He groaned loudly and pressed himself further into her, with Rose’s very welcome hands digging into his bum. He buried his face in the crook of her shoulder and managed to find some purchase on the door of his ship with one hand, the other busy trying to bunch the skirt of her dress up her thighs.

 

“Gods, Rose,” he growled when her own hand brushed against his erection through his trousers.

 

His knees wobbled and he struggled to keep some kind of balance. He felt his belt loosen around his hips and he grew impossibly harder at the sound of the zipper being lowered tooth by tooth. His fingers found the hem of her knickers and he tugged harshly on it, ripping them off her hips and dropping them carelessly on the grass. Rose palmed him through his pants and he rutted against her hand in anticipation with low, possessive grunts.

 

“You’re so ready for me,” Rose whispered in his ear with a nip on his lobe.  
“Are you?” he breathed back, impatient fingers running up her thigh.

 

She kissed him deeply and mewled in ecstasy when cold fingertips found her burning hot flesh. The heat and the moisture he felt there could have been the Doctor’s own undoing but he managed to muster enough composure to hold back. He bit down on her tongue with a sharp intake of breath as she freed him from his pants and she groaned in response when his index found its way inside of her.

 

“So wet,” he rasped, teeth scraping the nape of her neck.  
“For you.”

 

Rose shuddered deep down to her core as he pressed the heel of his hand against her bud and he added a second finger for good measure. The Doctor bucked his hips against hers, boiling air blown against her shoulder, and she quickly realized he was looking to relieve some of his ache. She gathered the moisture on his tip with her thumb and slowly pumped his hard length, drawing another deep growl from his throat. She found it so hard to focus on pleasing him when her own pleasure was so overwhelming, his fingers dancing on her skin and playing all the right strings inside her.

The Doctor would have drowned in all the little sounds she made when he stroked her most sensitive spots, but he was too far gone for that. He was rather amazed at how quick Rose could get him there. Her touch and her scent drove him mad with lust and love, and he wondered if he was crazy to have denied himself this kind of pleasure for so long. Especially now that her hand was all over him, working its sweet magic and bringing much too quickly to the edge he was close to tumble over.

 

“Need you,” he said between clenched teeth. “Now.”

 

Rose shivered when he withdrew his fingers and firmly gripped her thighs to get a secure hold on her body. He nudged at her entrance and he silently asked for permission. She hastily nodded and whimpered when he slid inside her in one swift move.

 

“Mine,” he growled, the remnants of jealousy transpiring through his every stroke.

 

Rose exposed more of her throat as he sucked on her pulse point and dug his teeth in her tender skin. She moaned uncontrollably as he began to thrust, rough and fast, her nails raking the skin of his neck, her lips colliding with his when he looked up to her with two dark pools instead of soft brown eyes. Desire grew stronger each time he pushed inside her and she had to break the kiss to be able to breathe properly. She rested her forehead against his and the possessive stare he gave her made her insides twist with a new wave of arousal.

 

“Yours,” she whispered, brushing his sideburns lovingly.

 

He bit his lip and rocked his hips harder, slipping his hand between their bodies. His thumb found her engorged nub and rubbed in broad, purposeful strokes. Rose cried out at the extra-stimulation and her nails dug deeper in the skin of his neck to the point it drew blood. She mumbled a stream of incoherent words and profanities and her thighs tightened around his waist.

 

“Doctor…”  
“S’alright, love,” he panted as his own pace faltered. “Come for me.”

 

Those words were the last push she needed. She muffled her shout in the lapel of his tux and her walls fluttered wildly around his length, stars flying before her eyes, her body tensing against his.

The feeling of her surrounding him completely had the Doctor follow a few thrusts later and he shouted her name with no restrain as he twitched and emptied himself inside her. He took a moment to come back from this incredible journey and buried his face between her heaving breasts. He planted a soft kiss there, his hands tenderly caressing her trembling thighs.

Rose rested her cheek on the top of his head as she struggled to steady her breathing. After a few minutes, the Doctor helped her down to her feet and slipped his clothes back on. He took her hands, as gentle as could be, and pressed feather kisses to each of her knuckles. She smiled at him with tears ready to be shed in the corner of her eyes and he drew her into a tight embrace.

 

“Are you alright?” he asked softly, brushing his lips on her temple.  
“I should be the one asking you that,” she answered as she nestled her face in the crook of his neck.  
“Rose, I… Are you sure I didn’t hurt you? I’m afraid I’ve been…”  
“Hush, you,” she interrupted with a tender smack on his shoulder. “I’m fine. More than that.”  
“Oh, good, brilliant,” he sighed in relief. “Blimey that was… I should dance more often.”

 

Rose laughed and kissed him fully on the lips, glad to draw one last contented groan from him.

 

“That, you should,” she giggled as she twined her fingers with his.  
“I love you, Rose Tyler,” he whispered with a squeeze on her hand. “More than you could ever know.”  
“I love you, too, my beautiful Doctor,” she said with a genuine lover’s smile. “You know…The song is not over yet. Might last long enough for another dance.”

 

He found himself dumbfounded when she tugged on his hand and led him inside his Tardis.

He would definitely take up dancing whenever he had the chance. Especially when it involved Rose Tyler. _The best dancer in the universe_.

 

 


	4. Yellow - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose is about to die, the Doctor tries everything he can to save her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is rated M for graphic depiction of violence/blood.  
> Be warned, this one is extremely angsty.
> 
> It will be split into 3 parts because I wrote far too many words for it to fit in a single chapter.
> 
> I hope you'll like it, don't hesitate to let me know what you think! :-)  
> Thank you to everyone who left kudos on this work, it's greatly appreciated!

“Hold on, love. Please hold on.”

 

The Doctor’s legs screamed in protest and his muscles burnt as he ran forward. His feet pounded the road with each heavy step, the pace steady. He had to count the steps in his head to keep his rhythm from faltering. Two hundred and sixty eight. Sixty nine. Seventy. Not much, given the distance he and Rose usually ran when they were going on an adventure. And yet, this was already too much.

His fingers fumbled on her jacket to find some purchase and moved to clench on her upper sleeve. He gritted his teeth when the deadweight in his arm slipped from his hold and he grunted loudly when he struggled to haul her tight against him. The Tardis was close now, and he thanked every deity he knew of when he noticed the area was clear of any space pirates.

His legs were beginning to fail him and each step sent jolts of pain up his body. He ran the last few feet to the Tardis, breath short and laboured, and he kicked the door of his ship open with a growl.

 

“Come on, come on,” he groaned as he quickly made his way through the console room.

 

He pushed the first door he found open, knowing the Tardis would sense his dread and help him as best as she could, putting what he needed as close as possible. The light flickered on in the infirmary and the Doctor gently laid Rose’s body down on the treatment couch. He shrugged his coat off his shoulders and rolled up his sleeves.

He opened her jacket, ripped her blood-soaked shirt off and blanched when he finally was able to analyse the nature of the wound. She had been shot with a titanium bullet that had the particularity to burst into several pieces when it stilled inside its target and release a vicious poison. A death sentence, especially for humans.

What he saw terrified him. The size of the wound, all that blood oozing steadily from it and rolling in heavy drops on her sides, how pale her skin had become. She was still alive – he could tell from the almost imperceptible rise and fall of her chest – but for how long?

He wiped his sweating brow with the back of his hand and put his glasses on the top of his nose. His hands twitched impatiently as his brain fought to find a solution that would save her. Surgery to take out the fragments of the bullet would probably kill her even faster. Creating an antidote to the poison from scratch would take too long. She was bound to die.

The Doctor pinched the bridge of his nose and shoved the thought out of his mind with a quick shake of the head. He had to try something.

He went from terrified and clueless to determined and assured in less than a second as adrenaline kicked in his system and he quickly grabbed a clean cloth to wipe the blood off the wound.

 

“You’re not dying on me,” he muttered under his breath, resolute. “I won’t let that happen.”

 

He clipped a heat rate monitor on her finger and poured half a bottle of disinfectant over the hole the bullet had pierced through her skin. He first picked up a cautery pen from the tray and bent over her body to get a better look at what he was doing. His glasses fell to the tip of his nose because of the sweat running down his forehead but he couldn’t afford to waste a single second to readjust them. Never had time mattered more than in this moment.

 

“This won’t hurt a bit,” he whispered, even though he knew she couldn’t hear him. “I just need to reduce the bleeding.”

 

The smell of burning flesh invaded his nostrils when the pen met tattered skin and the blood vessels retracted under its hot tip. He couldn’t take his time to be precise and meticulous and he made a quick work of cauterizing as much of the wound as he could. At least, it stopped the external bleeding and he wouldn’t be bothered with the endless leak of the red, thick liquid.

The steady rhythm of the heart monitor slowed down and grew more and more irregular, the beeps losing their conviction and faintly reaching his ears in a desperate plea for help.

 

“You’re doing great, love,” he said softly as he grabbed a hand-held scanner from the tray and hovered it over the wound. “You’re going to be fine. I’ll show you the birds we talked about when you’re better. Remember, the Zinuzuls? Brilliant birds, they are, I’m sure you’ll love them.”

 

The Doctor was doing his best to ignore the dreadful probability that she might die in his hands and he examined the results of the scan in a glance. Five fragments in total, scattered around a small radius from the entrance point. With a proper surgery, he would have been able to remove them without too much trouble, but that would require time he didn’t have. The faster the fragments were removed, the better chances he would have to make his healing ointment work on the shredded organs.

He picked up a pair of forceps and used them to enlarge the puncture hole by a few inches, careful not to rupture the cauterized flesh again. He took a surgical extractor from the tray and took a deep breath. He was going in practically blind, the results on the scanner being his only guide. Each of his movements could cause more damage.

 

“Let’s do this together, Rose,” he said through clenched teeth. “Just another adventure, yeah?”

 

He probed the hurt flesh with his tool and saw the muscles of her abdomen shudder at the foreign contact. He bit his lip when he dove deeper and the monitor beeped faster. He glanced at her scrunched-up face, worry gnawing at his guts as the tool picked the first fragment. The last thing he needed was her waking up. The pain would be unbearable, she would become spasmodic and eventually put herself in an even more critical situation.

The Doctor held his breath as he ever so slowly pulled the metallic fragment out of the wound. He released the air from his lungs with a powerful blow of relief when Rose didn’t move, apart from the slight twitch of a finger.

 

“That’s excellent, Rose,” he smiled weakly, throwing the fragment into a stainless steel bowl. “Only four more to go.”

 

He repeated the operation, moving his extractor with precise care until it met another shred of titanium. The rhythm of her heart stuttered each time his tool came into contact with the wound, its pace having turned erratic. He turned a deaf ear to it but he couldn’t miss the cold of her skin despite its cover of lukewarm blood. He needed to go faster. His clammy and bloodied hands didn’t help.

His agile fingers pursued their goal without wavering, extracting fragment after fragment until only one remained. Rose moaned softly when he inserted the extractor to retrieve the last shred of metal and his head shot up under the wave of fear that coursed through him. Her eyes were tightly shut and she was so pale under the light of the infirmary that she almost looked translucent. Her heartbeat accelerated as her hand reached to grip the Doctor’s wrist and her nails dug into his skin with a surprising strength.

The Doctor made sure to keep the tool still inside the wound with his right hand while his left came to pry Rose’s fingers off.

 

“Please love, let me finish this,” he pleaded, tugging on the fingers that wouldn’t leave his arm. “I know it hurts, but it’s the last one. Just one more and you’ll be fine. Think about the Zinuzuls, eh?”

 

Her groans muted into soft raspy breaths and her arm fell limply on the mattress. He exhaled a shaky wave of air, both relieved that she hadn’t moved and awfully scared that she had already fallen back into unconsciousness. The extractor clipped the last fragment that appeared to be much deeper than the others and the Doctor worried his bottom lip when he tugged a little to free it from her flesh. As soon as the fragment came out, blood gushed from the wound and spurted all over his shirt. The Doctor jumped, a loud curse escaping his lips, and he instinctively pressed his palms over her abdomen, panic slowly taking over.

The pace of her heartbeat plummeted until a dull, continuous beep deafened him. He didn’t even realize the tears rolling down in heavy drops on his cheeks when his hands moved to her chest to perform a cardiac massage.

 

“Oh no, you don’t get to die on me, Rose Tyler,” he growled angrily as he bit the inside of his cheek.

 

Each time he pressed her chest with as much conviction as he could muster, more blood oozed from the wound. Her skin had turned white as snow, her mouth blue as a summer sky. And cold. She was so very cold. It felt like life was evaporating from her every pore. Soon, she would be gone for good. His own life was sucked out of his body with every breath. Being the reason she died would be the end of him.

The Tardis pushed the barriers of his mind and the Doctor felt her yank at tendrils of the thoughts he had been struggling to keep at bay.

 

“I can’t,” he panted, looking up to the ceiling. “I’m not even hurt, my body wouldn’t understand.”

 

 _Are you sure you’re not hurting?_ a soft voice murmured in his head.

He blew some air into her lungs and kept massaging her chest. Of course he was hurting. He could feel his hearts shatter with the excruciating pain that her loss entailed. He could feel a giant hook pulling painfully at his guts each time his lips met her icy ones. His eyes stung because of the heavy tears rolling down his cheeks, some hanging desperately on his eyelashes. _Hurting_ didn’t even begin to cover how he was feeling.

 

“I don’t… I don’t even know how!”

 

_You don’t have to know. You have to feel. Let go._

The Doctor’s throat tightened to contain the sobs he felt rising. His muscles were weary and his arms failing him. Should he let go, it would be the end. He couldn’t accept that.

 

“Come on, love, don’t give up,” he cried miserably. “Come back to me. Please come back.”

 

 _Let go_ , the voice repeated at the back of his mind.

 

“Don’t tell me what to do!” he shouted at the ceiling of his ship, furious. “I can’t let her die!”

 

He winced with a pained hiss when the Tardis lashed at his mind and took control of his frontal lobe. His arms slid off her chest and his shoulders slumped. His body wouldn’t budge anymore and he teetered on his feet for a few moments until it fell backward on a stool.

 

“No, no no no,” he cried out, unsuccessfully trying to move. “Don’t do that to me, bloody ship! Rose!”

 

 _Feel_ , the Tardis nudged in his head.

The Doctor’s lips parted in shock as he finally took in the sight of her body, and renewed tears sprung from the corner of his eyes. As he looked at her face, so pale and so lifeless, the memory of her smile and sparkling eyes lit a fire of agony in his chest. His whole world came crashing down around him almost as fast as the heavy drops of her blood splashed on his shoes. All that red against that white seemed so vulgar, taunting him, reminding him that everything he had done had been useless. 

His hearts jumped to his throat every time his eyes, welled up with tears, betrayed him and made him see her move. He swallowed back heavy sobs every time he tried to reach for her hand but found himself unable to move. He longed for her touch, wished he could go back a few hours back when she was cuddled up in his arms, his nose brushing her sweet-scented hair and his fingers trailing feathery paths on her ribs. Realization hit him hard, like a powerful punch in his guts. He would never bask in her heat again. Never feel her skin under his fingertips. Never smell her perfume. Never hear her laugh.

How could he live without all those things he had come to love so much? How could he live without her?

 

“Come back,” he whimpered weakly, his face scrunching up with pain. “Please, come back to me, Rose.”

 

The only answer that came was the screeching beep of the monitor. And The Doctor cried like he had never cried before. The broken sobs coming out of his mouth didn’t even sound like his. All of this felt so unreal. Like a bad dream he would eventually wake up from. But he knew that even in his worst nightmares, Rose wouldn’t come close to looking so _dead_. She was _dead_. In front of his eyes. It was real.

His sobs doubled as guilt and despair and anger and sorrow boiled in his stomach and wormed into his veins. His brain finally wrapped around the fact that this really was happening.

 

“I was supposed to protect you,” he sobbed loudly, unable to wipe his tear-coated cheeks. “I’m so sorry, my love. So, so sorry…”

 

Rose had been the only reason he had to live. Before she came into the frame of his life, he had merely been existing. Travelling from planet to planet with no purpose except the thrill of putting himself in danger and feeling the impulse of survival instinct. It had all changed the second he had taken her hand. From that single touch, love had been born, joy and peace had been brought into his dull and pointless way of living. She had breathed new life into him. But now, his only source of light was gone. His bright, beautiful, comforting light was gone. And without it came the deep, scary darkness.

He wanted her back. His whole body screamed to hold her against him, his whole brain wailed to meld his mind with hers. He needed her back.

His hearts tore apart in his chest and his eyes closed under the weight of the tears clinging to his eyelashes. He wished he could forget everything. Go back to being a lonely and sad Time Lord traveler not to feel this kind of horrid pain that had become his new companion the moment Rose Tyler had died in his arms.

He felt terrible for even daring to have such thoughts. How could he ever forget her? Rose Tyler, the most brilliant pink and yellow human in the whole universe and beyond. His beautiful Rose, the only woman who had been able to save him from himself. He didn’t need to forget her. He _needed_ her.

All the cracks she had mended would break again. All the bruises she had tended to would paint his soul black again. Everything they had built together was falling apart.

 

“Oh, Rose,” he whispered, voice weak and wavering. “What am I supposed to do without you? Why did you have to go? You promised you’d never leave me. You promised me forever. It’s not fair… I… I…”

The Doctor’s breath itched when he felt a familiar heat ignite into the pit of his stomach. The astonishment and delirious hope he felt were quickly followed by an encouraging hum of the Tardis. Fire spread through his limbs as the energy coiled deep inside his chest. Flames licked up his arms and he jumped to his feet when he realized his ship had freed him. He looked at his hands and what he saw might have made his burst out with laughter under any other circumstances. His eyes widened at the sight of the bright yellow aura surrounding his fingers up to the middle of his arm. The same flames rose in his throat and he exhaled a short breath just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. A small cloud of regeneration particles flew past his lips, floating in the air for a second until the vanished into the light.

 _Oh, please, please, make this work_ , he begged silently. He leant over her frozen body and rested a hand on the side of her cold face. His fingertips brushed against her smooth skin and a thumb swept over her cheekbone. The fire grew stronger at the contact, burning his insides and groping its way out to his throat like an animal clawing its way out of its hole.

He pressed his lips against hers and exhaled deeply the air carrying the glowing particles of regeneration cells into her lungs, hearts hammering with hope. He got back when all the energy from his body was transferred to hers, but his hand didn’t left her face. He grinded his teeth expectantly, watching for any sign that life was spreading through her. He had never quite believed in miracles, but at that precise moment, he was ready to accept any kind of divine intervention.

 

“Come on, love, you can do this,” he breathed as he kept brushing his knuckled over her cold cheek. “Please, do it. Come on, do it.”

 

The wait was atrocious. Every second that ticked away made his hopes crumble, piece by piece, and he was terrified luck might run out. Each intake of breath made his lungs expand painfully, to the point he stopped breathing altogether. His nails dug into the leather of the mattress, his ears strained painfully against the shrieking sound of the heart monitor.

Until a soft glow appeared around her fingers. It spread to her limbs, then her entire frame within a few, agonizing seconds. The Doctor took a step back, eyes widening with awe as the soft glow brightened, almost blinding him with the strands of yellow energy enveloping her body.

Her eyes shot open and the Doctor’s delirious fit of hope turned into desperate fright. Her usually honey eyes were hidden by a glimmer of amber light that he had only seen once before. When Rose had swallowed in the Time Vortex and became the fearsome Bad Wolf.

He watched with a ball in his throat as the wound sealed itself in an instant and she – or more likely her body – sat on the couch and faced him. The Doctor remained frozen in space and time, unable to react when she slipped from the mattress to her feet and took a step toward him. He looked away, terrified to see what might appear in the depth of her eyes.

He knew it couldn’t be the Bad Wolf. It shouldn’t be. But as she stood before him, eyes glowing yellow and tears streaming down her cheeks, he had to face it. Some residual energy from the Time Vortex must have been triggered by the regeneration cells he had breathed into her. The Wolf had been awakened and he had no idea what it could imply. His body tensed dramatically when she invaded his personal space and her burning hot hand pressed against his cheek.

 

“You have no idea what you have done,” her ethereal voice said softly, much too softly compared to what it ought to have sounded like.

 

The Doctor swallowed hard. He didn’t dare make a move. He had no idea what she meant and wasn’t quite sure he wanted to find out.

 

“You will never have to be alone anymore,” she continued, tracing a finger over his sideburn. “My Doctor. Forever starts now.”

 

The yellow aura surrounding her body faded and the light in her eyes vanished. The Doctor took a glance at her, just to make sure the Wolf was gone. _Oh, yes_. Rose was back. That’s all he wanted. All that mattered to him. Never mind the Bad Wolf, never mind its words. Rose was back. He wanted to laugh, ready to take her in his arms, crying tears of joy and relief, thanking every deities in the universe for the absolute miracle. He didn’t get the chance to do that.

Before he could do anything, Rose fell to the floor with a scream of pain that pierced his ears and his soul.

 

“Oh, Rose, love, no,” he stuttered as he knelt next to her body that had gathered into a shaking heap. “What is it? What… What happened? What have I done?”

 

The Doctor tried to understand what was happening, make sense of the small strings of regeneration cells that escaped from her lips. This wasn’t supposed to happen. The wound was sealed, she was free of any poison. It had worked. So what had happened? What had that residual Time Vortex energy done?

 

“Kill me,” she cried, clutching her chest as if she wanted to rip her skin apart. “Please, kill me.”

 

He was lost. Rose was healed, and yet she seemed to be subject to an excruciating pain. Her nails were digging into her fragile skin, wails of despair escaping her mouth, groans and moans melting into a symphony of cries. It was a music he never wanted to hear again. He saw the muscles of her stomach clench violently and another stream of regeneration energy accompanied the short blow she released. He wished he could help her but he knew there was nothing he could do. Maybe he had already done too much. The little he knew wouldn’t be of any use under such unique circumstances. He brushed his fingertips against her side and yellow sparks blazed under his touch, eliciting another loud groan of pain.

 

“Oh, please, Rose,” he begged as he rested her head on his lap and combed strands of hair drenched with sweat. “What’s happening to you?”  
“I… Heart…” she managed to moan painfully between clenched teeth.

 

The Doctor was terrified her little human heart was unable to bear the effect of the regeneration particles and that she might die. Once again. And it would be all his fault. Once again. He quickly clipped the monitor back on her finger and waited for it to activate. A rapid beep rhythm greeted him, twice as fast as a normal human heartbeat pace should be. Now wonder it was hurting. She wouldn’t be able to keep up much longer. His brain rummaged through all the knowledge he had to find a way out of this impossible situation only to abdicate. Every solution came with an infinite number of parameters that could make it all so much worse. It was a dead end.

 

“Please,” she whined like a wounded animal. “Make… Make it stop.”  
“I don’t know what to do,” he lamented, his own tears falling freely from his eyes. “Rose, I’m so sorry.”  
“They hurt… So much…”

 

The Doctor winced, both at how her words sent daggers in his guts and at the sudden and unexpected invasion of his mind. The floor of the Tardis thrummed under him, but it wasn’t her telepathic wavelengths that he was feeling. He sought more of the feeling of the intruder, tuning his mind like he would with a radio to pick up the right station. A gasp escaped his parted lips when he was submerged with a stream of pain, helplessness and desire to end it all.

 

“Rose?” he whispered softly, pressing his fingers on her temples to enhance the connection.

 

The answer was immediate.

_Please help me. Please, it hurts. Help me, Doctor. I’m begging you, make it stop. They hurt._

Blurred pictures of the pirate that had shot her flashed behind his eyes, the bloods on her hands and her jacket, the view of the hard concrete closing in as she fell onto the pavement coated with rain.

The Doctor’s fingers came off her skin as if he had been burnt and he stared at her writhing form, bewildered. Rose had woven a full mental link between them, even though she shouldn’t be able to. She was just human. It was all nonsense.

Of course, he had already tried to teach her how to do it, but the results had been far from conclusive. The touch of their minds had been nothing but feathery and only Rose had felt him lightly knock at the door of her consciousness. Not close enough to share feelings and images as vivid as the ones she had just shared, especially without any kind of physical contact.

 _Tell me how to make them stop hurting_ , he heard her beg plaintively at the back of his head. _How can you live like this?_  
_What do you mean,_ them _?_ he hurriedly probed, hoping she’d be able to capture his own tendrils of thoughts through her pain. _What are_ they _?_  
_The hearts. They’re burning._

The Doctor’s hands froze in mid-air as he was about to clean her sweaty brow with a clean cloth. Of course, it would all make sense if it weren’t impossible. His own hearts beating fiercely against his ribcage, he picked up a stethoscope from the tray and plugged the eartips in his ears.

 

“This can’t be,” he murmured as he pushed her shirt out of the way.

 

He pressed his instrument against the left part of her chest and that was when he realized the impossible was turning out to be happening, right there and right then. Her human heart was beating normally, albeit a bit faster than it ought to beat, all while the beeping of the monitor kept screeching, loud and fast, easily reaching more than a hundred and fifty beats per minute. Slowly, he moved the chestpiece to her right side with trembling fingers, and despite his superior Time Lord physiology, he almost fainted when he found another heartbeat. Two hearts beating in perfect sync, one after the other.

 

“Doctor,” she moaned weakly, exhausted by the endless pain and the constant strain in her muscles. “What’s happening to me?”

 

The Doctor couldn’t answer. He was sick. Sick and feeling terribly guilty. He now had a rather precise idea of what had happened and he suddenly wished he hadn’t tried to save her, because death was probably the best option compared to what she would have to live through – if she survived at all. If he was right, her frail human body was going through hell and it could very well be fatal.

His guess was that the regeneration cells had identified her as a Time Lord because of the energy remnants of the Time Vortex. They had acquired the fact that she only had one heart and they were probably working to fix that. Fixing something that didn’t need to be fixed. Creating a whole new vascular system and a second heart, as well as working on her brain to add the psychic connections required for telepathic communication. Creating a whole new body from scratch.

 

“I… I’m going to find something to knock you out for a bit,” he mumbled, carefully putting her head back down on the floor before standing up. “There’s nothing more I can do.”  
“Don’t,” she pleaded between pained whines, barely strong enough to lift her eyes up to his face. “Tell me… What’s happening? Please, Doctor…”

 

The Doctor simply bit the inside of his cheek and went to the cupboard to fetch the most powerful anesthetic he could find. The more rest Rose could get, the better chances she would have to pull through.

 

“No, no, don’t,” she protested feebly as he approached with a syringe. “Please, I’m so scared.”  
“It’s alright, love. I’m right here. You’re going to be fine. I promise.”

 

The blatant lie made his insides twist uncomfortably but it didn’t prevent him from pricking the needle into the soft skin of her arm and inject the transparent substance into her system. Rose tried to object once more, clinging to his trousers, but it only took a few seconds before her body shut down and another cloud of regeneration cells cascaded from her mouth.

The Doctor let a sad sigh escape from his lips and picked her up gently off the floor. Her treatment wouldn’t require the infirmary anymore. Just a good dose of luck and prayers to a thousand gods. He headed for their room and laid her down in the middle of the bed on comfy cushions. The reality of what had happened finally settled in his mind and he suppressed a sob, the weight of his despair and guilt finally too heavy a burden for his drained body. The sight of the dried blood on her pale skin, the tears that still hadn’t completely dried on her cheeks, the red marks on her chest that her nails had left in her pain. It all looked ghastly.

He went to the nearest bathroom to get a humid towel to clean her up only to be faced by his dreadful reflection in the mirror. He couldn’t remember ever having such red, puffy eyes from too much crying. He couldn’t remember ever having looked so exhausted. He washed his hands and sprayed some cold water over his face to freshen up a little.

He got back to Rose and the mattress sagged under his weight as he sat. He helped her out of her dirty and tattered clothes, almost gagging at the rancid smell of the dried blood that coated them. He took his time to wipe the blood off her skin, gestures slow and gentle. He eyed with a grimace the small scar covering the silken surface of her abdomen – the very reason all of this had happened. He erased every remaining trace of blood and perspiration from her face with a clean tee-shirt, and when he was done he pressed a soft kiss on her forehead.

 

“I’m so sorry, love,” he whispered, brushing strands of golden hair with his knuckles. “But if anyone can get through this, it’s you. You have to hold on. Please, hold on…”

 

He drew the cover over her chest and fetched a chair to sit as close to the bed as possible. He took her hand and basked into the feel of her skin against his cheek. A short moment of respite before he would have to monitor her permanently, run tests to make sure everything was going fine, worry at the thought that his Rose’s life might end in a single breath. A moment long enough for guilt to roar in the pit of his stomach and remind him that he had caused this. A moment long enough for anger to settle deep down in his guts and wake his old demons up.


	5. Yellow - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose is about to die, the Doctor tries everything he can to save her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second part of this story!
> 
> Still extremely angsty, but maybe it'll get better in the last part. Or maybe it won't!
> 
> Thanks again for the kudos, and thanks for reading! :-)

_Doctor…_

The Doctor woke up with a start when the soft voice pulled at tendrils of his mind. He made a quickly mental calculation to find out he had slept for more than four hours.  After three days between staying at her side and going back and forth from the bedroom to the infirmary to run tests, his need to rest must have been too strong to keep it at bay any longer. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat next to her body, fingers coming to rest on her cheek.

The tremor at the corner of her lips and the slight arching of her back from the bed left no doubt in his mind. After endless hours and days spent worrying over the life of his Rose, wondering if she would ever wake up, she was finally coming back to her senses.

 

“Doctor,” she called out with a hoarse and tired voice, her eyes fluttering open to meet his.   
“I’m here, love,” he croaked, throat constricted with relief and joy. “You’re awake. Gods, you’re awake.”  


He laid next to her and gently took her into his arms, peppering kisses on the top of her hair. She snuggled closer to him with difficulty and sighed heavily when she nestled her head on her shoulder, arms draping around his waist.

 

“I’m so sore,” she whispered against his shirt. “And my head is killing me. Could you get me some aspirin?”  
“No!” he answered too quickly, fingers unconsciously tightening around her arm in a surge of protectiveness. “No, I’m… I’m sorry Rose, I can’t.”

 

The Doctor couldn’t take the risk. A single dose of aspirin could kill a Time Lord in less than a minute, and given that Rose – or part of her, at the very least – showed quite a lot of signs that she had turned into one, he wouldn’t take the littlest chance. She hadn’t pulled through all of this to die because of a mere, simple human medicine.

 

“Why not?” she whined as she looked up with a frown.   
“Rose…” he started, unsure as of where to start. “Do you remember what happened? Anything at all?”  
“Well… I remember when we went to that planet to get a new magnetic field dampener for the Tardis. And… It’s all pretty much confused. I think we met a girl, and there were men trying to steal something from her. And, you tried to stop them, right? I… I can’t remember.”  
“ _You_ tried to stop them, love,” he clarified softly. “Of course, you would. Always the helping hand.”  
“No memory of that at all,” she shrugged, wincing a little when the ache at the back of her head grew stronger. “Why does any of that have to do with bloody aspirin anyway?”

 

The Doctor took a deep breath, anxiously playing with a strand of her blond hair. He knew he had to explain everything, but he was terrified to tell her the truth, and even more to find out how she would react. She didn’t even seem to be aware that two hearts were beating in her chest, didn’t even realize how her mind reached out to mingle with his. He couldn’t let her discover all of this herself or the shock might too important to withstand. Adopting a matter-of-fact and scientific approach might be less upsetting and make the emotional fallout easier to overcome. It wasn’t like he had had to face this kind of situation before. There were no books on _how to tell your human companion she has turned into a Time Lady because your stupid alien arse couldn’t stand to lose her?_

Rose must have sensed his disarray and fear, as she rose on her forearm and placed a hand on his cheek, thumb grazing his sideburn.

 

“Doctor, what is it?” she asked in a whisper, her eyes boring into his. “What’s wrong? You’re scaring me.”  
“Rose, I…,” he hesitated before he inhaled deeply and aimed straight for the truth – the faster it would be out, the better. “You got shot on that planet. Space pirate got you. I took you to the Tardis, got the fragments of the bullet out, but you died.”

 

She was about to interrupt him but he hushed her gently with a finger over her lips.

 

“My body created regeneration cells,” he continued. “They saved you, but they did more than that. You still had residual energy of the Time Vortex in you and the cells couldn’t make out the difference. They assimilated you as a Time Lord, because only my species can ever look into such a thing as a Time Vortex. They recreated an entire Time Lord body and mind out of your human ones. I’m so sorry, Rose. I had no idea this could happen. I don’t even think it has ever happened before. I’m so, so sorry.”  
“Time Lord body and mind?” she parroted as if those were the only words she had understood. “You mean… Like you?”  
“I… Yes. As far as I can tell, yes. Part of it, at least.”

 

Rose stared at him in disbelief, pain growing worse and spreading through her limbs like venom. It was impossible. She was human. Just human. She was Rose Tyler, the stupid ape, the pink and yellow human. Nothing more. Her brain blazed with the thoughts tumbling wildly against each other in her head as she tried to make sense of it all. She saw the tears he was trying hard not to shed as he nervously fiddled with the sheet. He was worrying his lower lip he had sucked into his mouth, seemingly waiting for her to say or do anything. She could see he was scared. Terror showed in his eyes as clearly as she was sure it reflected in her own.

 

“Does that mean I’m going to die?” she asked in a breath, about to give way to the rush of fear creeping along the ache in her body.

 

The Doctor’s breath got caught in his throat as he suppressed a sob. She was shoving the exact question he didn’t want to hear right in his face. He didn’t have an answer. It had only been three days since she had went through a partial regeneration. For now, everything seemed to be on the right track for a full recovery, but who was to tell things wouldn’t get worse and eventually lead to her death? What if the human part in her couldn’t cope with the Time Lord one? Her human body wasn’t designed to bear the physiology of a Gallifreyan, especially not a Time Lord. Despite all the signs that proved she was doing fine, something might have gone terribly wrong during the regeneration, it simply didn’t show yet.

He decided it was better for both of them to overlook the possible outcome and aimed for a half-truth, half-lie.

 

“Very unlikely,” he tried to reassure – to no avail, given how her face blanched and her chin trembled. “Quite the opposite, in fact.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“I’ve run some tests. Your cells aren’t aging anymore. You may even live longer than me.”  
“If I don’t die first, right?” she whispered, tears starting to roll down her cheeks. “’Cause you have no idea what you’ve done to me, really. No idea at all, right?”  
“Oh, Rose,” he breathed as he backed away from her, unable to stand her accusing gaze. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

 

Rose fought her pain to reach for his wrist and pulled him back down on the bed beside her. He tensed at the contact and looked away when her nails gently scraped the nape of his neck.

 

“Doctor,” she murmured as she pressed her forehead against his in an attempt to catch his eyes. “I died, right? I died and you saved me. I forbid you to be sorry. Getting to spend more precious time with you is the best gift you could ever offer.”  
“But you might die again, because of me.”  
“But I’m alive,” she insisted. “I should be dead and you bloody resuscitated me. You gave me, _us_ , a second chance. I’m begging you, don’t do this. Don’t blame yourself. You saved me. That’s what matters the most.”  
“I turned you into something you didn’t even ask for!” he cried out, shrugging away from her hold to pace angrily at the foot of the bed. “I don’t get to choose for you, Rose! I changed everything you were just because I was too selfish to let you go. I didn’t save you, I saved _me_ , because I can’t live without you! That’s not right! I shouldn’t have done that… I should have let you die!”  


 

The Doctor stopped dead in his tracks, his stomach churning violently when a wave of heavy hurt rushed through his mind. His eyes widened dramatically when he realized what he had said and he turned on his feet to face a Rose crying her heart – _hearts_ – out. He wanted to tame the anger making his ears buzz and hi nostrils flare, but he couldn’t. It had awoken centuries-old fears that had only grew so much scarier when Rose, his so precious Rose, had looked into the heart of the Tardis and she had become immortal. Immortality wasn’t a gift. It was a curse. Just as much as being a Time Lord was. A life of torment and affliction. That’s the only gift he had offered her. The most poisoned gift that had ever been offered.

 

“No, you don’t get to say that,” she whispered, voice full of tears. “I could hate you for what you did to me, and yet I don’t”  
“Yet yes! Yes, yes you should!” he exclaimed with a growl, pulling at wild strands of hair.  
“But I don’t!” she retorted vehemently despite the headache thundering against her skull. “If all of this doesn’t kill me, we can get our forever. I can never hate you for that, do you understand?”  
“Yes, well, forever doesn’t mean what it used to mean to you anymore. The few decades you thought you’d get to spend with me have become a few centuries, maybe millennia.”  
“Is that it? You regret what you’ve done because you’re stuck with me for god knows how long?”

 

The Doctor took a sharp intake of air and swirled on his feet to face her, the dormant Oncoming Storm lighting up in his large pupils. He wasn’t angry with her. He was angry with himself. Angrier than he had ever been. He swiftly straddled her legs and leaned into her so that her back was pressed tight against the headboard.

 

“ _You_ are stuck with _me_ , Rose,” his voice rumbled low in his throat. “I have cursed you. I did this to you. Either you die soon enough to be grateful you didn’t get to have gone through what I have or you live hundreds of years in agony, losing everyone and everything you care for. I wanted to save you and what I did is the exact opposite. This Time Lord physiology might not kill you, but it will still be the end of you. And I caused this. I gave you the life I never wanted you to have.”  
“What… What have you done with my Doctor?” Rose breathed, almost scared at how threatening he looked.

 

She pressed her palms on the sides of his face, trying hard not to show her pain and her fear. She kept her eyes locked with his and waited for the heavy rise and fall of his chest to subside, his breath coming out in labored puffs blowing against her skin. She could see his inner turmoil floating in the depths of his irises and how his teeth bit angrily into his lower lip. This wasn’t the Doctor she knew. This wasn’t the Doctor she had fallen in love with.

 

“What if I want this life?” she asked softly, brushing her thumbs over his sideburns, feeling the tension in his jaw. “No matter what you’ve done, this is about me now.”  
“You can’t want it,” he said between clenched teeth. “You can’t, you just can’t.”  
“I can. I do. Why can’t the ever optimistic man you’ve always been see the good in this?”  
“There’s nothing good about this,” he shook his head forcefully.   
“Oh, please, shut it. Just shut it and hear me. _I want this_. I want you for as long as you want me. You haven’t cursed me, you thick alien, you have blessed me with what could be centuries I get to spend by your side. Now, if that’s too unbearable a perspective for you, just ditch me somewhere I can start a new life. If I survive, I’m not spending hundreds of years with someone who can’t look into my eyes without feeling regret or spite. Is that clear?”  
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Rose. Nine centuries. I’ve been living for more than nine centuries and all that followed in my wake were destruction and pain. I’ve killed people, burnt planets, lost my family and so many friends. I can’t wish for that to happen to you.”  
“What about the people and the planets you protected? The friends you kept safe? So many terrible things happen around you and yet you always do everything in your power to make it better. How many lives have you spared, how much more have you saved? I was there for some of them Doctor, I saw your compassion, all the good you’re capable of, the joy you feel when people are grateful for your actions. Sometimes things don’t go as planned and you have to make choices, I grant you that. But no matter how hard the choices are, you make a stand. You do what you think is best even if you wish the outcome were different. You can’t save everyone, you’re not a God. You are just a Time Lord who does everything he can to help, and I don’t care if you don’t see that, because I do. I’m not stupid, and I know bad things are bound to happen in a centuries-long life, but… But so long as my Doctor is with me, I know the toughest of times can be overcome. We could live so many adventures together, him and me, we could do so much good, have each other’s backs when things turn sour and mend each other’s wounds. And I don’t mean you. I don’t need that grim, angry alien man who despises himself. I need my Doctor. Because if he doesn’t come back, then you were right. You should have let me die.”  


Rose ended her tirade with a suppressed sigh of exhaustion and pain, the headache having reached new heights and the fire in her veins stoked by her uncomfortable position. It killed her to see the total lack of reaction from the Doctor – although the spark of anger in his eyes was gone, he still had a frown contorting his face in an awkward grimace. His stare pierced her soul and the way the corner of his lips seemed to suddenly fall prey to a mind-defying gravity made the hair on her neck rise up. He didn’t seem to want to move or say anything at all, except for the gruff noises he made deep down in his throat and the tight jaw that kept clenching and unclenching.

Somehow she knew he was lost in the depth of his mind, but her own was growing too tired to dwell on what he could be thinking any further. She closed her eyes once, her hands falling on her side and her eyes unable to meet his any longer. Then twice, feeling his hands on the side of her face and the cover being pulled back over her body. Then one last time, feeling a lingering kiss on her forehead and him walking away from her and disappearing through the door. Exhaustion won over the pain and sorrow and she fell asleep.


	6. Yellow - Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose is about to die, the Doctor tries everything he can to save her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last part of this story!  
> Still angsty, but also fluffy!
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy it!  
> Thanks for reading and thanks to everyone who left kudos! :-)

Rose’s eyes fluttered open as she slowly emerged from her slumber. Her nose picked up a faint smell of flowers and fresh clothes and she realized with a sigh of relief that the pain had completely faded, only remnants of soreness tingling her limbs. She had to smile lovingly when she saw the Doctor almost splayed over her body, legs entangled, an arm thrown around her waist and his head weighing down on her chest. His tousled mane tickled her chin while his fingers drew soft patterns on the skin of her neck. He was awake then.

Their earlier conversation came flooding back in her mind and her stomach clenched tightly when she realized things might go up in flames again. She had seen what his anger and guilt were capable of and she didn’t exactly want to be on the receiving end. She was about to clear her throat to make sure he knew she had awoken when he snuggled closer to her and pressed a kiss on her jaw.

 

“Part of me regrets everything I have done, everything I have said,” he whispered softly, index rolling around a strand of blond hair. “I could apologize to you a trillion times and it still wouldn’t feel enough.”  
“Don’t,” Rose started, not wanting to listen to another monologue tainted with anger and guilt.   
“But your hearts beat with so much conviction, and your mind speaks with so much confidence, Rose,” he continued despite her interruption. “I hear you. I feel you. Your very essence, it seeps into my veins and fills my brain with so much freedom and felicity. Your very presence makes me feel complete. When you died, all the little connections we had died with you and I felt just as dead as you were. I can’t even begin to describe how it felt to have your mind spark to life in my head. I don’t think it’s something I can live without anymore. To have that little part of you live inside me it’s… Magnificent. Like a burning sun guiding my way through this universe.”

 

Rose bit her lip forcefully to keep her sobs concealed inside, thinking the tears steadily drenching her shirt as he cried enough. She brushed his hair with shaky fingers, his words striking the deepest emotional chords in her chest. That man, that beautiful man, wonderful alien, brilliant Time Lord. Only he could make her feel that way. Precious like the rarest of diamond and unique like a single star dust at the edge of the universe. God she loved that man.

The Doctor rose on his elbow and used his thumb to caress her cheekbone soothingly.

 

“Rose, I…” he started, his watery eyes trailing over every inch of her face as if he wanted to etch the sight in his brain forever. “I love you so much. Can you ever forgive me?”  
“Oh, my Doctor,” Rose smiled with slight tremor in her voice. “I would, a thousand times. If only there was anything to forgive. You _saved_ me.”  
“Turned you into a Time Lady.”  
“Gave me a chance to spend a long lifetime by your side.”  
“Forced a bond with me upon you.”  
“You… What?” Rose frowned, not quite getting his point.   
“Rose, you… You’re bonded to me now. Telepathically. Came with the fusion of the Time Vortex energy and my regeneration particles. I’m sorry.”

 

Rose pushed herself on her arms and smacked the top of his head before she caught his face in a vise-like grip between her palms to make him look into her eyes. She was almost tempted to smile at the way his lips pouted out from his mashed cheeks and his fingers struggled to find some purchase on the mattress so that he wouldn’t collapse forward.

 

“I love you, I don’t want to hurt you, but for the love of God stop saying you’re sorry or I’ll kick your ass so hard you’ll fly across the Tardis. Twice. Now just take two minutes to explain, with facts, what I have become exactly, what this bond you’re talking about is, everything. You kept telling me I have turned into a bloody Time Lady and I don’t even know what most of that implies yet. So I want to know everything, because if you don’t tell me everything, I will go into panic mode and I swear to God you don’t want see that. Consider yourself lucky I was too busy trying to make you feel better when I was so worn out I could barely think, but now I’ve had enough of your sad eyes and whining.”  
“But, Rose…”  
“Facts. Now.”

 

The Doctor took a deep breath and took her hands in his to press them against her chest. Rose could see he was doing his best to hide his frown of guilt but she threw him a look that left him no other choice but to do as he was told to do. He cleared his throat and tried to state the fact one after the other without adding any melodramatic vibe to his words.

 

“You have two hearts, just like me. A binary vascular system to enhance your physical aptitudes, like running long distances. For now your heartbeats are a bit quicker than they should be because your hearts are still adjusting to your body, but it’s perfectly normal. Your cells are aging much more slowly than human cells. You skin cells, for example, now have a life cycle that spreads over sixty years when human skin regenerates every twenty-seven days or so. You could have centuries to live before you start showing signs of decay. You have a respiratory bypass too, I checked for that. Whenever you can’t breathe properly, the bypass allows the oxygen in your body to keep flowing to your internal organs. It doesn’t last forever but it has saved me quite a lot of times already. Overall, you have better resistance to most chemical compounds, high and low temperatures and radiation. Oh, and your body temperature has decreased by a few degrees. As for the rest, I cannot know. I doubt you have the capacity to go through full regenerations, which would mean you’re still mortal. Depending on the severity of the injuries it is possible that your body will try to fix them, but it remains a hazardous guess. I wouldn’t tempt fate if I were you.”

 

Rose drank his words to quench her desire to know more about the person she had become and the more he talked, the wider her eyes grew in amazement. Her fingers searched for her pulse and she let a startled gasp fall from her lips when she felt the double heartbeat beating under her skin. She wondered how she could have been oblivious to such a feeling, because now that she knew, the only thing she could feel were the hearts leaping in her chest and pounding against her ribcage. She was used to hearing that sound whenever she slept in the Doctor’s arms and feeling those beats under her fingertips when her hands pressed against his chest, but now it just felt weird and foreign. And rather thrilling, she had to admit.

 

“What about that…Bond, you talked about?” she whispered, unable to detach her fingers from the pulse points on her neck.   
“Telepathic link between us,” he enlightened her, anxiously tugging at spikes of his tousled hair. “A constant bond between our minds that allows us to communicate without words.”  
“Constant?”  
“Yes. What we share isn’t the simplest bond that could be forged among my people. We were all born with telepathic abilities, able to share the most primitive feelings and thoughts. But this… They used to call this a bond woven with the softest of silk and the hardest of steel. Love and devotion to fight through the hardships of life with a bondmate.”  
“Like some kind of marriage?” Rose asked, genuinely interested and certainly not as uneasy as the Doctor was.   
“Part of it, yes. Second step. But it’s not like we do things conventionally, Rose. It just happened, it doesn’t have to mean anything. What matters is that we are connected. I’ll teach you how to control your mind and close mine off. Shouldn’t be too hard given that you don’t seem to be bothered by it even now.”  
“Is it that… I don’t know, the bits of feelings I get in my head?”  
“Yes. But with the bond we have it can be more than feelings. Words and images can also filter through. You’ve already done it. You were in no condition to control it and I don’t think you can remember any of it, but you did. Are you… Are you okay with that?”  
“Can I use this to make you feel something I feel?” she asked softly, so close to him that their noses bumped into each other.   
“I can connect our minds, yes,” he answered just as quietly. “But you’ll be able to feel what I feel, too.”  
“Do it. Please.”

 

The Doctor nodded once and gently placed two of his fingers on each of her temple while she closed her eyes to prepare for the bond to weave between them. Rose felt him wrap his mind around hers, giving her all the time she needed to adjust to his presence. She basked in his warmth for a moment until she had to seek more of him, tendrils of her own mind growing to claw at his and draw him in. She sighed deeply when he filled all the gaps in her consciousness and she understood what he had meant when he had said she made him feel complete. It was amazing to properly feel the love and the tenderness radiating from him, as if her mind was cuddling against a warm blanket. But she also felt he was reticent to share more than this, like little mice scurrying away in the depth of his brain.

Rose probed further despite his reluctance and managed to find the swarming heart of his negative emotions. Spikes of guilt and javelins of anger were shot at her unwelcome presence, but she fought them back.

 _Rose, don’t_ , he whispered at the back of her head.  
_I’m not letting you go, Doctor_ , she breathed back, moving her body closer to him to hug him tightly, pressing her lips on the skin of his neck.

She deepened the link they shared and soothed the sting of his hurt with what she hoped would be waves of comfort, glad that their connection hadn’t broken when his fingers had shied away from her temples. She poured everything through their bond, her unconditional love for him, her gratitude for all the things he had done for her, like a calming lullaby to help him overcome all the feelings he didn’t deserve to suffer. After long minutes, he gave up the fight and he began to accept the truth behind her feelings. Accept that she didn’t blame him. Accept that she was happy with how things had turned out to be. Accept that she loved him.

Rose smiled against his shoulder when she realized he was now leaning into her touch and that the bleak feelings buzzing at the center of his mind were slowly fading away to be replaced by trust and elation.

 _Can you see now? That I’m okay with all this? That I still love you?_ Rose asked, sending a pulse of tenderness towards him. _Feel better?_  
_Oh, yes_ , he answered, a laugh echoing in the real world. _Thank you, Rose._

When she was sure that all the guilt and anger were gone she slowly withdrew from his mind but didn’t entirely severe the connection between them. A large grin split her face and the Doctor’s smile might have never been as bright as it was in the moment. Their foreheads met and Rose splayed her hands over his chest, feeling his hearts under her fingers, her eyes never leaving his.

 

“Ready to spend a few more centuries with me?” she beamed cheerfully, their shared happiness bubbling at the back of her head.

 

The Doctor simply captured her lips in a delicate kiss and clasped her hands between his slender fingers.

 _An eternity with you wouldn’t be enough, Rose Tyler_ , he whispered in her mind as his tongue trailed across the seam of her lips and he pushed her back gently on the bed.  
_I love you, my Doctor_ , Rose murmured back, deepening the kiss and pouring her soul into it.  
_I love you too, my wonderful Lady.  
Forever, _ the word echoed between them both as they simply basked in each other’s warmth. Feeling alive.

 

***

 

“I missed those,” Rose giggled happily as a small chick landed on her shoulder and pecked at a strand of her hair.   
“Three centuries later and they still love you,” the Doctor smiled, careful not to step on any of the long, multi-colored tails of the birds scattered around them.   
“They’re so cute,” she squealed when she saw an endless trail of chicks following what must have been their mother. “Can’t we take one to the Tardis?”  
“Remind mind, how old are you?” he smirked.   
“Oh come on, just because you’re more than three-hundred year-old doesn’t mean you can’t be a little childish sometimes. You of all people should know that.”  
“I’m not the one getting over excited at the sight of a bunch of little birds, thank you very much.”  
“Should we go over all the childish things that get _you_ over-excited?”  
“Better not”, he shrugged lightly, scratching the back of his head with a pout. “Still, we’re not taking a Zinuzul back to the Tardis.”  
“Alright,” she sighed in defeat. “Can we stay a bit longer, at least?”  
“As long as you want, love,” he smiled fondly, pressing his lips to hers before she snuggled against his chest and watched the Zinuzuls strutting in the yellow grass.


End file.
